Chaos road
by Republic of Yolossia
Summary: A long and arduous adoption process seems to be the biggest concern for Alin and Tsvetan; that is, until a string of tragedies and reckless decisions leave them once more on the run from both the police and a dangerous, murderous criminal. This time, it's not just their own lives at risk. robul au.
1. New start

_Tsvetan- Bulgaria_

_Alin- Romania_

_Katya- Ukraine_

_Ms Mancham- Seychelles_

_Jan- Netherlands_

…

_Okay, now this is the long-awaited, and hopefully not disappointing, sequel to 'Only one to stand by me', so it might be a wise idea to go read that. If you've already endured that, then please go on, if not, you might want to have a look at that first._

_Okay so I'm assuming people who are reading this from here on have already read the first fic. If not, you're one dumb fucker, but also pretty rebellious and gutsy, which are great qualities in a pirate or something, but not so much a reader._

_Go read the other fic._

_Okay, now _this_ fic does need a few warnings. It'll contain some blood, shooting and general illegal things. In addition, it'll contain Romania and Bulgaria doing lots of dumb shit that gets them in trouble, but is anyone genuinely surprised at that? Also the character death for this series will rack up a fair bit, so please don't get emotionally attached to anyone. But seeing as this is fanfiction and all, I'm guessing it's a bit late for that. It also contains a Londoner with no passport writing about places they vaguely know, who would also be grateful for some advice from more well-travelled folks._

_Anyway. On with the show!_

…

To say Tsvetan Borisov loved his job was an understatement.

He took another sip from his coffee, looking around his tiny but comfortable office, listening to the shouts of the children in the playground below his window. As he had no clients at that moment in time, he'd left the door open, and students often walked past in pairs or groups, talking loudly and a few even waved or called hello to him. He loved working in this environment, meeting young people from different backgrounds and walks of life and just listening to their stories. People booked appointments with him for all sorts of reasons, such as having troubles with family, friends, mental health or schoolwork, some sent by teachers and others coming of their own accord, and he listened to them all. Each young person was different. Some came to his office to rant and cry, whilst others mostly kept to friendly conversation, rarely touching upon their problems. He loved trying to help them manage their struggles, though it upset him to think about people so young going through these kinds of troubles, and he especially loved watching them change over the weeks.

The first week was always nerve-wracking for him- even though he'd been at this job for a few years now- and usually involved his client doing most of the talking, explaining their problems in detail, usually forcing themselves with a pained expression as they internally told themselves that this was the best for them, and would help in the long run. Most came back for a second session. From there it varied, as some would focus on whatever issue they wanted help on whilst others simply talked about TV shows they liked, or what they did at the weekend. Although Tsvetan was eager to get to the source of those people's issues, he understood that some people felt uncomfortable talking about such things, or just wanted someone to talk to in general.

Either way, Tsvetan observed how the attention he gave those young people allowed them to bloom. The first week usually saw the arrival of someone timid, unsure of how counselling was supposed to work, cynical about the process and bogged down with their troubles, often having never talked about them with anyone else. But after a few weeks, he could see the effect a calming environment and attention they often lacked in other aspects of life had on them, particularly in their body language. A lot of his clients started out hunched and surly, staring at the ground and talking in a low mumble, but slowly over the weeks they became more relaxed, leaning back in their chair and becoming more animated as they spoke. He'd be lying if he said the change didn't make his heart swell.

The most important thing about these sessions, Tsvetan believed, was allowing the young people to decide what they wanted to talk about or do. He wanted to let at least one aspect of their lives be in their own hands, and give them even the smallest amount of control of their lives. They often talked about how school and home life controlled them, and their frustration over it. He knew all too well how a lack of control in life could easily spiral a person down into a state of depression, and it showed in some of his clients. That was also why he didn't pressure any of them to talk about their problems specifically- his clients would only talk to him when they were comfortable enough to.

Yes, he loved his job very much, even though it- obviously- came with its downsides.

Most of his day was quite relaxed, isolated, even, with him talking to up to six people a day for forty-five minutes or so, taking a few quick breaks between clients, and going home. But a high school environment never stayed quiet for long. Break times came and the corridors would fill with shouting teens and Tsvetan would be overwhelmed with thundering feet and people yelling to be heard over each other. The noise in general didn't usually bother him, as he knew when break times were, but every now and again a student wandering the corridors during lesson times would call something out, either because they were bored or had seen someone they knew, and make him jump. His own clients could be unpredictable too. The people he dealt with had a range of problems that could leave them needing to scream out their frustration or grief. He understood that, but sudden raised voices still scared him. He didn't like telling his clients that though, as he felt it would make it seem like he was trying to make the situation about him, which was the last thing that was needed when he was trying to make said emotional person trust him. He could cope with the noise if it meant his clients were more comfortable. He could deal with his office being a little too small for his liking, if it meant his clients felt safe. He could even manage having people brush up against him in the corridors every time he went to get a tea or coffee, or sit in the staff room.

The one thing that he could do without was the foul language though. Being a high school, the place was rife with swearing and degrading words. The swearing he didn't mind; heck, he had a pretty foul mouth himself, but every now and again he'd hear someone shout something that cut close to the bone. A word that he'd been called before in the middle of the street, or called himself when he was at a low point. Sometimes he heard people shout words that had been shouted at him during his torture. Depending on what was said, it could make him slightly uncomfortable or make him break down entirely, quickly shutting his office door so no one could see him sob and whimper on the floor, pulled back into an evil memory.

Still, Tsvetan was sure that would be easily cured with a few school talks. He hadn't brought it up with any of the staff though, because he had yet to figure out a creative, original way to engage with the students. A boring PowerPoint wouldn't do the trick, and would probably just make the situation worse.

Tsvetan smiled into his cup; here he was, making plans for his future, a future he once thought he'd never have.

"Speaking of which…" Tsvetan wondered if he'd have time to give his husband a quick call before his next client. Glancing at the clock, he found he had ten minutes, and decided to go for it. He wouldn't usually, but today was a big day for them; today they were getting a home visit from their caseworker to see if they could adopt. Tsvetan felt giddy at the thought. The idea of him and Alin with a child of their own… he couldn't describe it! They'd be responsible for their own tiny human, who no one would love more than them. Tsvetan knew it would be hard work, but preferred to think of how rewarding it would be. He couldn't wait to hold his child close and sing to them, watching them grow older and achieve all those important steps in life. He wanted to be there for their first steps, their first day of school, and every play they auditioned for. He'd drive them to and from whatever after-school clubs they went to, help them with homework and listen to their problems. He knew Alin felt the same too, and the pair had talked for hours about what they could do when they were parents, and where they'd take their child for day trips and holidays. They were both so excited…

The adoption process had started nearly eight months ago, shortly after their wedding, and still had a long way to go. The wedding itself had been a simple affair, with just a few friends and no honeymoon; they were already saving up for parenthood, especially since even the adoption process cost money. After contacting an agency, they'd completed a training programme and filled in an application. The training and vast amount of paperwork had almost put Tsvetan off the whole thing, but Alin persisted, working hard to complete every training session and get all the necessary paperwork completed. Tsvetan admired him for it, and watching the man work relentlessly made him realise why he'd fallen in love with Alin in the first place.

This home study stage was giving Tsvetan second thoughts too. He couldn't help but feel ever so slightly invaded at the thought of all the information he needed to provide. Already, he had medical records checked- a particularly hefty process for him- as well as upcoming criminal record checks, and they needed to provide references, family checks, experiences with children, income and daily life routines. They wanted to know his entire life story. The medical checks worried him the most; would they believe he'd recovered enough to look after a child? Alin, meanwhile, fretted over his criminal record. To be completely honest, Tsvetan did too. Hopefully, the larceny charges would put the agency off- especially since Alin had been released for over two years now and hadn't reoffended since- but there was still that one other incident…

Tsvetan shook his head; the whole thing was silly, and there was no way that he'd dare believe they'd be refused after all the work they'd put in. The pair had even had to temporarily cut themselves off from so many of their friends and acquaintances, including Ivan, Tino and Alfred, so they wouldn't be inspected. That also meant strengthening their friendships with Katya, Roderich and other more respectable members of their community. Katya wasn't a problem, but Alin and Elizabeta still had a fierce rivalry that had only gotten worse over the years. However, the pair had agreed to tone things down during the adoption process, so Tsvetan and Roderich were blessed with several months of peace.

It was times like this that Tsvetan wondered if they were even suitable to raise a child. Even though he and Alin no longer dabbled in any illegal business, a lot of people in their community did and the child could easily follow that path once they were older. In addition, there was Tsvetan's health. He knew he'd never fully recover from his experiences, and honestly didn't want to force a child to deal with his mess like Alin and Katya had to. What if he got sucked back into a bad place again? What if he tried ending it all and the child was the one to find him? What if there was a physical health problem that had gone unnoticed by the doctors and resurfaced years later? He remembered that one time- a couple of weeks ago- where he'd voiced these concerns to Alin whilst they were curled up on the couch.

"Don't say it!" the other had replied fiercely, placing his hands either side of Tsvetan's face, red eyes almost drilling into his green ones, "don't even think it! And don't you dare ever tell yourself that you're not good enough for this baby! We deserve a child and a chance at some damn happiness! You'd make a fantastic parent, Tsvet; I've never known someone with that much kindness in his heart. Yes, it'll be hard, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared of it, but we'll get there! We'll learn and develop with this baby. We'll make sure none of us get caught up in any illegal shit, and if- god forbid- that ever happens, then well stick together and help each other! That's what families do, right? Families also don't view their members badly because of health. You're stronger than you think you are, Borisov-Radacanu, and need to give yourself some fucking credit once in a while! Besides, you won't have to raise this kid alone; I'll be here to keep an eye on your health, just like you'll be here to keep check on me."

Although he'd been somewhat comforted by his husband's words, Tsvetan was still uncertain. Maybe he just needed to talk to said husband again.

So he pulled his mobile out of his pocket and began dialling. Alin answered almost immediately.

"Hey," Tsvetan began.

"Oh hi Tsvet," the other replied, "all well where you are?"

"Not too bad. On a break now. How's the tidying going?"

He could almost hear Alin rolling his eyes before replying; "the apartment's squeaky clean. I've put child locks on pretty much everything that moves and tested the smoke alarm. It's fine Tsvet, calm down."

"I _am_ calm," Tsvetan tittered, "just wanted to check up on you."

"Good to know," Alin replied, "erm, I've been meaning to ask, and might've left it a bit late…"

"Yes, all your history and magic books need to do a disappearing spell. We can't have Ms Mancham stumbling across anything that might traumatise our poor future child. I suggest leaving them with one of the neighbours. Best not to ask old man Vargas. Poor guy has enough on his plate."

"Ms Mancham is not going to care about my books!" Alin protested, "as long as they're out of reach, she won't be too bothered by them. It's about Vladislav. Do you think it might be best for_ him_ to do a disappearing act?"

"Probably not," Tsvetan rubbed his chin, "he's harmless. I guess this is something we can ask Ms Mancham about today. This whole thing's to iron out all any wrinkles we might still have."

"True. So is there anything you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Nope," Tsvetan nodded, even though the other couldn't see, "just wanted to check up on you."

"Excited?"

Tsvetan peered outside to make sure there was no one in the corridor before squeaking out a 'yes'. He was absolutely giddy; nervous too, but trying his best to remain positive and excited about the whole thing, which wasn't too hard.

"I am too!" Alin almost shouted back, "oh gosh we're gonna be that much closer to getting a baby! We're gonna be given an actual human!" Tsvetan heard a crash and a string of curses from the other end of the line.

"What have you done now?"

"Nothing! Okay, I might've knocked over a lamp. Gotta go fix this. Love you!"

"Love you too," Tsvetan sighed, smiling as the connection went dead and he pocketed his phone.

"Everything alright, Tsvetan?"

Tsvetan jumped, snapping his head up to find the vice principal, a Mr Yao Wang, smiling in the doorway.

"Yao!" he gasped, jumping in fright. The teacher just snorted, coming in and sitting down on the only other chair in the room, the one usually occupied by troubled students. Tsvetan pulled at his blazer sleeves nervously, trying to hide the faint white scars on his wrists and arms. It was a habit now, and he did it every time someone entered his office, regardless of whom it was.

Tsvetan respected Mr Wang greatly; after all, it was the aging teacher who'd given him the job here in the first place. It turned out that he'd been Katya's professor when the woman had been training to become a teacher, and the pair still kept in touch with each other. He also knew of Tsvetan's ordeal, and had wanted to help him get a fresh start, and for that the young man was grateful.

"Calm down," Yao continued, "I was just passing and wanted to see if you're okay. Your face had gone awfully read, like you were running late for something."

"Oh," Tsvetan looked around awkwardly, "yeah, I'm fine. Just a little nervous."

"How come?" Yao looked at him curiously.

"Well today's a big day in the adoption process. This lady from the agency's going to look at where we live and see if it's fit for a child."

Yao nodded, giving a small smile. "Good luck! Although, I don't know why you're bothering," he added, "children are cute at first but then they grow up to be disrespectful little shits, who go off and do their own thing, barely glancing back. No time for their old father, oh no…"

Tsvetan rolled his eyes. This wasn't the first time he'd heard bitter comments from the middle-aged teacher about his adult children.

"I know you're cynical about the rantings of an old man," Yao glared at him, "but all you young people are. One day you'll understand."

"I'm twenty seven!" Tsvetan sighed and nodded, before hastily changing it to a shake, "I think I'm old enough to decide if I want to be a parent."

"I know…" Yao looked at him evenly, "I guess I should realise by now that what happened to me isn't the norm. Just because my own children chose career over me, doesn't mean yours will."

"Thank you," Tsvetan smiled back at him, "now can you please vacate that seat? I have an appointment with young Raivis in a few minutes."

Mr Wang barked out a laugh, shaking his head as he left the room.

…

Their building hadn't changed much over the years. Tsvetan walked up the carpeted stairs in silence, noting how it had faded slightly since he'd first trodden here, and there were a few more scribbles on the walls, but nothing else told of the time that had gone by. The hall was still pretty dark, most of the bulbs had long stopped working and no one wanted to fork out for replacements. Still, he could navigate pretty easily with the little light there was; he only hoped their case worker would be just as unperturbed by it.

For two years now, Alin had been allowed back into society, and worked to rebuild his relationship with Tsvetan. Like all damaged things, they couldn't go back to the way they were before, so built something different, a new closeness that added to their previous way of life. Held together by a long hidden love and need to keep the other close, they'd entered a romantic relationship, slowly but surely relearning each other, and stumbling through their new, lawful, existence.

The result was their marriage and plans for a family.

Tsvetan pulled out his keys, unlocking the door to his apartment, and was instantly greeted by an ecstatic Alin, who gave him a quick kiss before bursting into excited chatter.

"Oh good, you're home!" His husband pulled him inside, grinning widely and desperate to show off his handiwork. "I cleaned _everything._ This place is going to look perfect for Ms Mancham!"

"Good to know," Tsvetan smiled as he looked around. Alin had worked very hard indeed, making sure the place was not only clean and hygienic, but safe and completely child-proofed. "It's fantastic," he added, eyes wandering over the child locks on the kitchen cupboards, the freshly vacuumed carpet and now magazine-free coffee table.

"You think so?" Alin grinned at him with tired eyes. Tsvetan felt a pang of guilt as he noted how much thinner his husband had become since they'd first contacted the agency. His face was paler too, and taking on a greyish tinge whilst dark bags hung under his eyes; Alin had really been pushing himself these last few months. Tsvetan often woke up in the night to find him sat on the floor at the coffee table, filling in paperwork or phoning people for references, and had to almost drag him away to sleep. He couldn't help but wonder why Alin did this. Sure, Tsvetan so badly wanted a baby too, but he hadn't lost too much sleep over it.

"You should ask Toni to give you the night off," he commented, wandering over to Alin and kissing his cheek, "you deserve a break."

"Way ahead of you," Alin replied with a wink, "I went over to Toni's apartment to hide the books and he said I looked like a zombie and was not allowed to come to work tonight," his smile faltered, "I can't help but feel slightly offended by that." Alin now worked as a bartender at Toni's pub, since Alfred had quit to pursue his own career, and loved it. He enjoyed being surrounded by people and laughter and chatter, and booze. The one downside was that the pair of them were usually at home at different times. Still, they always made sure to find time for each other.

"You do have a certain undead look about you," Tsvetan admitted, "but you're still one handsome devil. A tired face like that only comes from so much hard work, I guess." He looked around the main room, smiling as if to prove his point.

"You haven't seen the best bit yet," Alin brought Tsvetan back to reality, holding out a hand, which the other took gladly.

"Oh? Haven't I?" Tsvetan raised an eyebrow, smirking.

"Nope," Alin dragged Tsvetan into the spare room, formerly Alin's, now belonging to their future child. For the past few weeks, Tsvetan had been banned from setting foot in it per request from Alin, and he'd obeyed. He couldn't help but be more than a little worried as Alin opened the door; his partner's tastes could be more than a little eccentric, and his idea of cute didn't always match Tsvetan's… or society's. Nevertheless, he decided to put his faith in his husband's judgement.

"Ta-da!" Alin pushed the door open and Tsvetan gasped, covering his mouth with a hand.

Last time he'd seen the room, it had been an absolute tip, filled with boxes and dust, and certainly not fit for a baby. But now the peeling wallpaper had been removed, replaced with a dark red paint, the carpet cleaned and new furniture added. The walls were dotted with photographs of forest landscapes and animals. A tiny wooden cot sat in the corner under a mobile, and the shelves were filled with toys. A collection of stuffed animals took up one side whilst jigsaws, train sets and boats filled the other.

"I got my brother to send over our old playthings," Alin explained, "so they didn't cost anything. I bought the paint off Jan, which didn't cost too much since it was a little bit stolen."

"It's amazing, you're amazing," Tsvetan breathed, running his fingers along a collection of fairytales and children's story books packed tightly onto a wall shelf, along with a few ornaments and some CDs containing lullabies.

"In case you wear out your voice," Alin explained, quickly kissing his partner.

Tsvetan chuckled, following Alin as he pointed out more features of the room.

"Oh, and this is where we can put baby clothes, blankets and diapers," Alin rapped his knuckles against a chest of drawers before moving on to a rocking chair in another corner, "and here's where we'll give baby their bottle and rock them to sleep."

"And this?" Tsvetan tapped a horseshoe nailed onto the wall.

"Lucky charm," Alin told him, "I put a few around the place, to give a kid a head start and all. There's a dream catcher next to the window and I painted a shooting star onto the ceiling."

"So you did," Tsvetan murmured, looking up.

"I also got a bag of lucky gemstones," Alin held up a small pouch before placing it gently back on the shelf, "and a lucky coin." He held up a tiny coin for Tsvetan to see.

"That's an old ban," the other noted.

"Exactly," Alin grinned, "don't get many of those this side of the Atlantic, so it'll be special to the baby."

"If you say so," Tsvetan gave a warm smile, "but why all the luck charms. I know you're pretty superstitious, but this is a little insane, even by your standards."

Alin sighed, and seemed to age before Tsvetan's eyes as he smiled back sadly, tossing the coin in the air and catching it again; "I just don't want anything bad to ever happen to our child, that's all."

Tsvetan nodded as he gripped the cot with shaking hands, swaying slightly. "You know… you know they can't get us now. Those… bastards can't hurt us anymore." He remembered, in a terrible mixture of glumness and amusement, how it was usually Alin saying this, often after Tsvetan had woken up from a night terror, screaming, not knowing where he was until the man next to him woke up and tried to soothe him with promises of safety and solace. This time it was his husband looking at him uncertainly, anxious for reassurance.

"I know," he whispered, rubbing his arms through his jumper.

Their buzzer broke the silence, signalling that there was someone at the front door. Alin jumped slightly, before breaking into a breathless grin.

"It's time," he murmured.

…

**Yeah a nice long chapter to start things off, huh?**

**Aww, they're all domestic and happy… I hate that.**

**Note: a ban is a Romanian coin, correct me if I'm wrong.**


	2. Under inspection

_Salvatorio- Seborga_

_Franz- Kugelmugel_

_Lars- Ladonia_

…

_Warning for mentions of guns, snakes and aph Finland in this chapter._

…

"We should've hidden Vladislav," Tsvetan whimpered as he followed Alin down the stairs. Alin just shook his head.

"Too late now, dear. Don't worry about him!"

Alin opened the front door to Ms Mancham, who nodded and stepped inside, greeting him warmly as they stood in the darkened, carpeted hall. Tsvetan lingered by the stairs, only walking forward when the young woman turned to him, and shook hands with her, and pulling his lips into a smile.

"Nice to meet you again," he said.

"Likewise," Ms Mancham nodded, "I'm sure you're well." She was younger than most of the social workers they'd encountered, with dark curly hair that was today tied into a bun. She wore a blue skirt suit and carried a shoulder bag and notebook, and had her usual sunny smile on her face. Tsvetan was extremely fond of her. He'd been nervous about meeting with a social worker, and images of stern, aged professionals who looked down on them had filled his mind. But Ms Mancham was completely different from what he expected. Friendly and kind, she'd helped him greatly with any doubts, questions and concerns he had and her presence didn't make him nervous, unlike with a lot of people.

They'd met several times before when she'd interviewed both him and Alin, together and separately. She asked them about their past experiences with children, their relationships with those closest to them, their approach to parenting and how they handled crisis. It was then that Tsvetan had brought up his kidnapping and subsequent mental health issues. Although she was concerned as to how far he'd recovered, Ms Mancham had been sympathetic, and reassured him that it shouldn't be a problem. After all, it wasn't like he'd ever attacked anyone else or committed murder.

Alin had gripped his chair harder at that, but refrained from talking.

It was also Ms Mancham that had told them they'd be better off adopting the one baby. It was pretty clear they had no room for a sibling group in their tiny apartment.

"This won't take too long," she began to explain; "I just need to look around and ask some questions."

"Fair enough," Alin shrugged, gesturing towards the stairs.

"I'll try to talk to you sometime in the week," Antonio told Mr Vargas as he opened the door to the man's ground-floor apartment and walked outside, interrupting the others' discussion.

"Look after yourself," the old man replied, resting a hand briefly on his shoulder before pulling away and closing the door again. When Antonio turned around and saw the other three, he nodded politely, pushing past and walking up the stairs to his own apartment.

Tsvetan wasn't used to seeing Antonio like this, gloomy and silent. The broken softness of the young man's voice unnerved him, as did the sunken eyes and thin, tight lips that never truly smiled anymore. Antonio used to brighten up anyone who saw him, but now he was timid and miserable, and infected others with his misery.

But that's what the death of a friend does, Tsvetan supposed.

"What's wrong with him?" Ms Mancham asked, raising an eyebrow and looking at the couple in concern.

"His friend Lovino died recently," Alin explained, "used to live over there with his family," he added, pointing at the Vargas' closed door.

"Yeah him and Toni were like brothers or something," Tsvetan added, "argued like brothers, at least."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear about that," Ms Mancham glanced nervously at the door, "may I ask how he died?"

"Don't know," Alin shrugged, "didn't ask. His Grandpa and brothers were really upset about it so I didn't want to bother them."

"I see," Ms Mancham nodded, "still, I'm here for a reason. Shall we continue?"

"Of course," Alin lead her up the stairs whilst Tsvetan lingered, throwing a glare at his husband's retreating back. They weren't supposed to lie. They were supposed to tell Ms Mancham everything about their lives, friends and neighbourhood up front, as she told them that anything they were dishonest about would almost certainly be found out later and counted against them. The lying alone could mean they were rejected. He could understand Alin's motives though. Who would let a baby be adopted into a family whose neighbour had been shot in a gang fight? The youngest Vargas brother, Salvatorio, had mentioned it to them, and said that Lovino had been gunned down by a rival gang member in a revenge attack. He, like everyone they talked to on the subject, had been hazy with the details. Neither Alin nor Tsvetan had wanted to pry further, though they were hit with a fresh wave of doubt about parenthood. Was it selfish, wanting to raise a child in an area like this, full of crime and death?

Alin didn't think so.

"So are you cool with doing this for two guys?" he asked, glancing back in time to see Ms Mancham nod.

"Our agency caters for all kinds of families, and I just want to see as many kids find happy homes with deserving families as possible."

Alin nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer.

"Well, this is our place," he said as he opened the door to their apartment. "What do you think?"

"Well," Ms Mancham looked around, "it's definitely neat, but I've yet to decide if it's safe for a child."

"Oh it is, Miss Mancham," Alin assured her.

"Please, call me Michelle. And I have to see for myself."

"Of course," Tsvetan replied as he shut the door.

"Ooh, who's this little guy?" Michelle cooed as she spied Vladislav, wandering over to his tank.

"Our snake," Tsvetan explained, joining her, anxiously playing with his hands as he tried to gage her reaction.

"He's not, venomous, is he?" Michelle asked, glancing up nervously.

"Oh no, corn snakes are harmless! He only eats mice and the occasional rat. Oh, we keep those stored in the freezer under child-lock and key," he winked at that, "junior won't be able to get its hands on them."

"Good to know," Michelle turned her attention back to Vladislav, "oh wow he's so cute. I love little creatures! Turtles and frogs are my absolute favourite though."

"I love frogs too!" Alin butted in, "especially those little poisonous ones that are all brightly coloured! You know, the ones that look like petite, hopping gems. They're so cute; I wished I owned one."

"Fuck's sake Al," Tsvetan muttered, too low to be heard by the other two. Michelle just nodded.

"Yes they're really pretty; I wish they weren't so dangerous."

"The pretty ones usually are," Tsvetan commented, eyes darting towards Alin, who wiggled his eyebrows in return.

"So what about the rest of the place?" Michelle asked, looking up at the pair.

"Oh, of course," Alin smiled, bouncing slightly, "I have to show you the baby's room! Designed it myself!"

"Ooh, sounds exciting!" Michelle clapped her hands together, almost skipping as she followed Alin, "as long as it's safe, I think you'll be fine."

"Yes it's definitely safe," Tsvetan murmured to himself, "from the natural and supernatural. Alin made sure of it…"

…

"Well, I have to say I'm impressed," Michelle began as she took one final look around the apartment's main room, "you've definitely made this place feel welcoming and safe."

"We worked hard on it," Tsvetan told her, "seriously, this place used to be an absolute shithole a few years ago. I could barely find the couch at times."

"Think before you speak," Alin hissed at him; "well," he added, louder, "I guess that's what responsibility does, huh?"

"Indeed," Michelle nodded slowly, "either way, you've passed the home inspections."

"That's fantastic!" Alin broke into a wide grin.

"We'll be checking up on the place every few months, just to make sure it doesn't go back to being a, err, 'shithole'. We also still need to finish all your background checks, which could take a while. It could be around a month before you know if you've passed the home study as a whole."

"We can wait," Alin shrugged.

"We're pretty good at it by now…"

Alin shot Tsvetan a warning glare before turning to Michelle, who just chuckled.

"Yeah these processes take a long time, but it's just to make sure we can find the best match for you. Also to make sure you're not killers or anything," she added jokingly.

Alin chewed his lip nervously, but said nothing. Tsvetan nodded, sighing and rubbing his eyes.

"We know," he assured her, "we want everything to be perfect too. I understand that stuff like this takes time."

"Of course," Michelle nodded curtly before opening the door and stepping into the hall.

"I'll see you out," Alin told her, exiting the room after the social worker.

Tsvetan just stood there in mild shock, staring at the open door but not seeing it. They'd passed. They'd passed another stage of the adoption process and were _that_ bit closer to being parents. A slow smile spread across his face that quickly turned into a wide grin. They'd jumped another hurdle. Having a child was becoming a reality and he felt overjoyed by it.

When Alin came back, he didn't say anything, just shutting the door and standing in front of his husband in silence before letting out a yell, pulling Tsvetan into a crushing hug.

"I know," he wheezed, patting Alin's hair.

"We… we did it," Alin whispered; "we actually passed another fucking test."

…

"Don't worry Lizzie, we'll be there."

Tsvetan couldn't see Alin's face, but guessed the other was rolling his eyes. He sat on the edge of the bed with his legs hanging over the side, slumped forward and utterly tensed. His long fingers gripped the bed sheets and the muscles in his back were rigid and contracted, shoulder blades almost touching. He was always like this when Elizabeta phoned.

Tsvetan, meanwhile, was sat up in the bed, snuggled under the duvet and reading a book. Their 'bed' was actually both of their individual beds pushed against each other. Why waste money on a new one?

Tsvetan glanced at Alin's bare back, trying to ignore the pang of guilt in his chest when he stared at the deformed, scarred skin. The uneven, stiff, red marks never left, just like the ones on his arms, so Tsvetan would always be reminded of how they almost died together in flames, jut how Alin was always reminded of that incident when he was a child. How cruel a fate, Tsvetan reckoned, to have your follies carved into your skin so that even your own body mocks you. To cower from mirrors and the ugliness that was your past. The thought made Tsvetan glance briefly down at his own scars, pale and uneven and engraved into his arms. The chain of white, torn skin around his wrists felt heavy all of a sudden, like he was still tied to that chair in that attic, maimed and humiliated, living in constant darkness and fear. He quickly looked up. Alin's miniscule movements caused the scars to flicker in the lamplight, like the flames that almost led to their ruin.

At least Alin no longer cared about whether people saw his burns or not. He didn't show them to the whole world, but at least he'd stopped pretending they weren't there in the first place, wrapping himself up so that no one ever laid eyes on his disfigured arms.

He slowly lifted a hand up, brushing his fingers gently against Alin's back, feeling the rough, dry skin stretched over bone and muscle. A few flakes of the bumpy, crusted skin fell away at the touch. The other just turned around, throwing him a quick smile before frowning into his phone.

"Excuse you, Hedervary," he snarled, "I never make a tit of myself… yes, I'll be on my best behaviour… fuck off! It's that gun-toting cousin of yours that needs someone keeping an eye on him!"

Tsvetan chuckled as Alin bit his lip, probably to stop himself saying something he'd sorely regret.

"Yeah, whatever, bye you old hag!" he slammed his phone on the bedside table before throwing himself down on the bed, buried up to his neck in duvet, nostrils flaring.

"So next week's party's still on then?" Tsvetan asked, stroking his husband's hair.

"Why do you have to be Roderich's friend?" Alin whined, wrinkling his nose and swatting Tsvetan's hand away.

"Because he's nice? Besides, Ed and Katya will be there too. And Franz! You like him! You seem to get on well with Tino and Berwald's boys too."

"True," Alin smiled warmly, remembering how the now ten year old Franz still looked up to him, and thought he was the best uncle in the world. Lars and Peter were fond of him too. Of course, that fact often caused tension between him, Eduard and Tino. Especially Tino, since Alin still wasn't comfortable being in the same room as the hit-man.

You don't forget little things like getting shot at so easily.

"Come on," Tsvetan mumbled as he snuggled closer to Alin- feeling himself begin to sink into that gap between their two mattresses but not caring- and burying his face in the other's shoulder, "it's been a long day. Get the fuck to sleep."

Alin laughed, running his fingers through Tsvetan's coarse, dark hair, "g'night dear."

…

**Probably could've done this earlier, but damn I'm a lazy shit. So yeah half term's over so I might not have as much time. But I'm more up to date with college work than before so it might not make too much of a difference. But I also want to try updating one of the fics that has been left stagnating for months first, because it's kind of unfair on the people reading them.**

**Still, please tell me what you think.**


	3. Temper temper

Their home study finished earlier than expected.

Michelle had called them earlier that day- just two weeks after their home visit- to say they needed to come into her office. Something important to discuss, apparently. Alin had been a wreck, but Tsvetan wasn't too fussed. It was probably just a check-up, or one of them had filled out a form incorrectly, or she just needed to ask some more questions about another part of their lives. What was there to worry about? It was all pretty normal for them by now. The suddenness of this appointment threw him off slightly though.

Now they were in the lady's small, brightly coloured office, sat in front of an empty desk. Michelle had told them to wait there before disappearing down the corridor, so there was little to do but take in the familiar surroundings. Michelle still kept her collections of ornamental sea creatures on the window sill, desk and bookshelves, along with stacks of files and books in child development and psychology. The window was wide, letting welcoming, winter sunlight spill in.

Tsvetan cast his mind back to last week's party. Well, it was more of a small get-together, with a few couples and families that Roderich and Elizabeta were close to, some dinner, music and alcohol. Tsvetan mostly stayed close to Katya and Roderich, sometimes conversing with Berwald whilst Alin- surprisingly- shared a rather large bottle of vodka with Tino and, before they'd drained it all, the pair were treating each other like long lost brothers. It was a nice change, Tsvetan supposed, from watching his husband tiptoe around the other man, like any little thing could set him off. Tsvetan, if he was honest, thought it was plain silly. Tino wasn't a bomb. Tsvetan got along with the man just fine, and found him to be one of the sweetest, most thoughtful people a person could hope to meet. It was clear that any violent disposition the man had was reserved for his work.

Maybe that's what Michelle wanted to talk about. Maybe she'd found out about how they were friends with someone who kills people for a living.

No, their lives were being deeply pried into, but there was no way she could've found out about their friendship with Tino. They'd been careful with whom they were close to, and their friends had respected that need, and kept away if needed.

He'd always been curious as to how Tino and Berwald had managed to get their hands on the two kids, with their atrocious criminal record and apparent lack of morals, and shortly after they'd started the process, he'd asked Alin to elaborate on their unusual situation.

"Well," Alin began, "Peter was handed over to them in a private deal outside of the law, and Lars is Berwald's biological kid. Apparently, from what Ed told me, he'd had a one-night stand when he was still living in Sweden and the mum didn't want to raise the baby when she found out she was pregnant. They were both still in their late teens when it happened, so who can blame her? Berwald said he'd take the kid, and his own parents helped raise little Lars until he was about a year old, then Berwald came over to the states, met a twenty-four year old alcoholic assassin and, well, the rest is history."

Whilst Tsvetan had found that all extremely interesting, he'd not known how to react to the next bit of information Alin let slip. Peter was Rose Kirkland's son. He knew it was terrible, but he'd not been completely comfortable around the child since. Peter didn't look anything like his mother, apart from the two sharing the same corn-coloured hair, but Tsvetan was still anxious about being near him. Despite the boy's dark blue eyes full of warmth and happiness, his bushy eyebrows and his healthy round face, all Tsvetan saw was the cold green eyes behind glasses, and the elegant cheekbones of his mother. That child, no matter how guiltless and young he was, shared the same blood as the evil woman who'd spilled his, and laughed whilst doing it.

Tsvetan only hoped those ill feelings towards Peter faded away with time.

Michelle opened the door behind them, stepping into the office, and Tsvetan's eyes followed her as she made her way to the desk in front of them. He couldn't read her expression, and once more found himself getting tense. This was bad, wasn't it?

"Sorry about that. Now, I guess we should just cut straight to the point," she began, sitting down and resting her hands on the desktop, fingers touching.

"Of course," Alin replied; "is something wrong?"

"I'm afraid there is," Michelle sighed, closing her eyes briefly- a pained expression crossing her features for just a second- before continuing; "your adoption request has been rejected."

Neither spoke for a few moments, deathly silence crashing down on the room, then Alin choked out a "what?"

"Our agency cannot allow you to adopt a child."

"But why?" Tsvetan felt his mouth grow dry as cold dread washed over him. What had they found out to decide this? Had Elizabeta convinced Roderich to give them a bad reference? Had Michelle found out about Lovino's cause of death? Maybe she decided Tsvetan was too ill to provide a safe, stable home for a child.

Alin, meanwhile, looked on the verge of tears.

"I told you to get rid of that snake," he joked, forcing himself to smile.

"It's not that," Michelle told them, opening one of the files on her desk and flicking through it before settling on a page and scanning the tiny, printed lettering with her eyes, "it appears that Alin has failed part of the home study."

"Oh?" Tsvetan glanced between the other two whilst Michelle's face hardened as she glared at Alin.

"Yes," she began, drawing out that word, "Mr Radacanu-Borisov, we have had many meetings over the past months. Did it not occur to you even for a second that any of those would've been good times to mention that you have a criminal record, including a three year conviction for larceny, amongst other things?"

"Erm, well," Alin glanced up at her sheepishly, hunching his shoulders, "I didn't… really know how to bring it up. There never seemed to be a good time."

"How about all those times I asked you if you had any questions? Or if you had anything else you wanted to tell me? Or maybe that time when I asked you if you had a _criminal record_?"

"Ah yes," Alin looked down miserably, "I guess so… But I was really scared you'd turn me away if you found out."

"_When_ I found out."

"Well, I just didn't want you to think badly of me and I panicked! People do dumb things when they're scared…"

"Yes, but lying to your social worker is a serious matter," Michelle pressed, "and that alone would be enough to convince me to terminate your application process. Plus, it also shows that you don't really react well under pressure, huh? No offense, but there really are better ways to have handled this situation."

"I don't…" Alin swallowed, "I don't usually… I wouldn't do something this stupid normally but I was terrified of getting turned down."

"Well, I'm afraid you've left us with no alternative _but_ to turn you down," Michelle sighed, "if it's any consolation, the theft charges themselves wouldn't be enough for us to exclude you outright, though you would've had to wait a few years, since you have only recently been released from jail."

"Oh," Alin looked up, hopeful, "then do you think there's a chance we can start all over-"

"No" Michelle glanced down at her file again, "in addition, you also recently spent the night in a cell for physically assaulting a minor."

"I only threw a few punches," Alin rolled his eyes, "and the little shit was fifteen, so it wasn't like I hit a small child. I wouldn't do that! Besides, it was a year ago and they didn't press charges!"

"You broke a teenage boy's nose!" Michelle stared at Alin as if he was mad, shaking her head with a look of horror on her face.

"It was provoked!" Alin argued back, "that prick was insulting my husband, then fiancé, because of his nationality and sexuality! I was sticking up for the person I love!"

"If someone says things like that then you tell the police! Two wrongs don't make a right."

"But-" Alin's lips curled into a snarl that twisted the features of his whole face, "it's not fair!"

"Is there no way we'd be able to try again?" Tsvetan asked, voice low and cracking, "please?"

"It's out of my hands. Mr Radacanu-Borisov will never be allowed to adopt with this agency, and, as long as you're married to and living with him, neither will you."

"I see," Tsvetan looked down, playing with his hands.

"I'm really sorry about this," Michelle's voice softened, "you both seem like decent people, but rules are rules. It would be irresponsible, and downright illegal, for me to give you a child. I'd say go to a different agency, but you'd really be wasting your time. Alin won't be allowed to adopt pretty much wherever he goes to."

"Oh come on!" Alin threw his hands in the air, "because of a few little things I did in the past?"

"Just leave it, Al," Tsvetan turned to look at him, "you're wasting your time."

Alin opened his mouth to protest, but quickly shut it, simply nodding instead.

"Come on," Tsvetan stood up, gently pulling Alin to his feet, "let's not waste any more of Ms Mancham's time."

"…Of course," Alin nodded, slowly walking towards the door, "thank you Michelle, for everything." He forced a smile before disappearing into the corridor.

"You're welcome. Oh, Mr Borisov-Radacanu, can I talk to you for just a minute."

"Course," Tsvetan lingered by the door, looking at her with mild interest. He wanted to go and comfort Alin, who would no doubt be attempting to trash the first piece of furniture he could find. He needed to be with his husband. But he was not a rude person, and if Michelle had something to say to him, then he'd listen.

"Well," Michelle spoke tentatively, running a finger over a page in the file, "it also says here that one of your husband's offenses is blackmail. Towards you."

"And?" Tsvetan felt his entire body tense. Where was the case worker going with this?

"Nothing, it's just… Are you sure it was a good idea to let a person like that back in your life?"

"Yes. It's… complicated." Tsvetan knew he couldn't say anything more. Besides, she wouldn't believe him if he said Alin had made it up to protect him. It sounded silly even to think it, despite the fact that it was cold, hard fact. Alin was many things, but he was never abusive, especially to loved ones, Tsvetan was certain of it.

"I understand. Would you like a leaflet? Just in case."

"No, no," he smiled, chuckling and hoping he didn't sound as on edge as he felt, "thank you for the offer though."

Then he left to find Alin.

…

"I just spoke to my sister," Tsvetan began, walking into their bedroom as he pocketed his mobile, "she said I could either divorce you or rob a maternity ward. Pretty lousy advice, huh? Not Sure if she was joking or not."

He tried to smile, but all attempts died down when he saw his husband. Alin was curled up on the bed, lying on his side and hugging his knees as he sobbed loudly, having not even bothered to take off his coat and scarf. He faced the wall, not reacting to Tsvetan's words, except to wipe away tears and snot with his sleeve, giving a sniff as he let out a small, feeble wail.

He'd sobbed all through car journey home, and when they finally stumbled into their apartment, numb and dazed and utterly miserable, he'd trudged into their bedroom, head hung low and dragging his feet behind him, slamming the door when Tsvetan tried to speak, and follow him.

Barely two seconds later, he'd heard a howl and a crash, followed by a string of screams and curses. Deciding Alin needed time to be alone, Tsvetan wandered around the main room and tried to cope with his own grief. Muffled cries just reaching his ears, Tsvetan made himself a cup of herbal tea, shut the door to the spare room before his own temper blew, and sat down to think. Hands slowly warming from the hot cup, Tsvetan had let the contents of the meeting sink in, pondered on what they could do next, and phoned some of his closest friends for advice.

He was devastated, of course. They'd put in so much time and hard work, been filled with so much hope and excitement, only to be told it was for nothing. They weren't getting their child. They never would. They were not worthy of such an opportunity, and Tsvetan would never be able to watch his child grow and learn, becoming something to make their parents proud. There would be no school runs, or trips to the funfair, or life lessons, or tempter tantrums. He'd never tuck his son or daughter into bed, softly singing lullabies until they fell asleep. He'd never sit and help them with their homework, or tell them stories. The three of them would never fall asleep in front of the TV, tangled up on the couch.

They would probably never be parents.

Tsvetan didn't realise how empty it would make him feel. He rested a hand over his chest, feeling his slow, steady heartbeat and wondered why his lungs felt like they were about to collapse. The adoption process had been slow and uncertain, but Tsvetan had always told himself that, by the end of it, nothing would matter because he and Alin would be parents. But it had all been for nothing.

When the shouts had finally died down, hours later when the sun had dragged the light away and slowly blanketed the room in dim shadow, Tsvetan got up, placing his cold, empty cup on the coffee table and opening the bedroom door.

The sunset spilled in through the tiny bedroom window, throwing the room into a sharp contrast as fiery rainbows clashed with deep gloom spilling from every crack and crevice. The room was nearly destroyed, with tables and shelves thrown on the floor and books and clothes scattered everywhere, some torn. Alin was little more than a shadowy form, curled up amongst the clutter on their bed.

"Hey come on now," Tsvetan sat down next to him as gently as he could, avoiding pieces of glass buried amongst the blankets where Alin had apparently thrown an ornament against the wall above, and feeling his own eyes begin to prickle with tears. No, he couldn't start crying too; Alin needed him to be strong. It was his turn to be the one who was comforted. "We'll be fine without a child."

Alin slowly turned around, roughly pulling Tsvetan into a lying position, not even meeting the other's gaze as he bawled into his shirt. "But I… thought… I wanted us to be a family with a kid and just have a normal life! I fucked up, Tsvet. I fucked it up for both of us!"

"No you haven't," Tsvetan soothed, rubbing Alin's back, hands slow and gentle, "it's not your fault. Well, not entirely your fault."

"It is!" Alin wailed; "your sister's right. Just divorce me already!"

Tsvetan's younger sister, Tereza, was the only person on either side of their families that knew they were married. She was the sibling Tsvetan was closest to, and had promised to keep their relationship a secret from the rest of the family. She was also the one Tsvetan went to when he needed advice none of his friends were able to help with.

"Oh don't be so stupid. There's no force on earth that would make me want to leave you. Plus, we'd still end up living together, since I can't afford to move out, so I couldn't adopt then either. And divorces are too much time and money and paperwork, and I've had enough of that."

"But-"

"And most importantly," Tsvetan pushed Alin's chin up so the other had no choice but to meet his gaze, "I don't want to start a family with anyone but you. I don't want to have a future with anyone but you!"

"Tsvet…" Alin smiled, sniffing before letting out a fresh wave of tearful sobs, "thank you!"

Tsvetan pulled his lips into a smile as he held Alin closer; "it's okay. Now, how about we forget all this baby business for tonight. I'll throw some dinner in the microwave, make some tea and we'll just relax. Then tomorrow, I'll tell you all about this plan I have."

Alin looked up, eyes wide with curiosity and the tiniest hint of hope. "You have a plan?"

"Well, I guessed something like this might happen. People have been rejected for lesser reasons than what we were, so I wanted to have something to fall back on."

"You made a backup plan without me?" Alin glared at him.

"It was supposed to be a nice surprise," Tsvetan hurried to explain, "to give you hope if something went wrong and all."

"So what is it?" Alin gave a tentative smile, lifting his head up off the bed slightly. His face was red and blotchy from crying, eyes tired but once more glowing. His brown, dishevelled hair stuck out awkwardly, tickling Tsvetan's face. He may only be thirty, but in the dim light and draining past months, he looked older, frailer.

Tsvetan held him tighter, letting the other's body heat radiate over him, then replied: "it's a surprise. I'll tell you tomorrow. Now, do you have some more crying to do?"

"No, all dried up," Alin laughed as he wiped as his face.

"Good. Now help me clean up."

"Of course!" Alin looked around the room, wincing at the sight. "Err, sorry about this."

"It's fine," Tsvetan shrugged, sitting up, "we all need get things out of our systems every now and again. I'm sure that, between us, we'll get it cleaned up in no time."

"No doubt about it," Alin brushed glass away from him with his sleeve, "erm, I'm sorry about the vase."

"You can buy me a new one." Tsvetan stood up, turning on the main lights and poking at an upturned chair with his foot. "I have to ask though, why are you so fixed on this whole baby thing. I mean, damn I wanted a kid too, but not to the point where I'd trash a room over getting rejected."

"We all handle rejection differently," Alin shrugged.

"And?"

"And…" Alin slumped forward, staring at the ground wretchedly, "I just… well, I thought that if I raised a kid with you, and the kid grew up healthy and happy and not a fuck-up like me, then I would've finally done something right in life and, well, maybe atone for my atrocities."

"Al…" Tsvetan dropped the pile of clothes he was carrying, sitting back down next to him, "so this is what's it's all been about?"

"I wanted something good to come out of my life for once…"

"And what am I then? I'm not gonna lie, Al, you did some pretty awful things in the past. Things that I shudder to think of. But that was the old you, the young, reckless, violent, messed up you. That person is gone! You're this new Alin who doesn't give up on his friends! Who commits to a relationship and sacrifices himself for people he loves!"

"But what if he's not gone?" Alin stared evenly at Tsvetan, face pale and gaunt though his eyes were fierce and challenging.

Tsvetan looked away, chewing his lip and trembling slightly; "look, Rose said something once, about how your actions would lead to my downfall. And how you'd be the one to kill me, maybe directly, maybe indirectly."

"That bitch…"

"My point is, are you gonna let her be right? You've changed for the better and you've shown that Jensen and Kirkland's twisted views and predictions were all bull! They knew the old you, but this you is good! This you deserves a kid! Without this new you, I'd be dead!"

"Oh dear god you naïve bastard," Alin muttered, covering his mouth with his hand as fresh tears began to spill.

"What do you mean?" new dread washed over Tsvetan, but before Alin could reply, his mobile rang, the tacky ringtone startling them both. Tsvetan stood up, pulling the phone out of his pocket and answering. Alin just sat slumped on the bed, watching as his husband began to pace the tiny room, carefully stepping over the mess as he listened to the voice on the other end.

"Oh hey Ed… yeah... no, you're joking! Don't lie… they, what? Oh god… we'll be there right away!" he hung up, and turned to face Alin, the colour drained from his face as he swayed slightly, looking like he was about to throw up on the spot.

"What happened?"

"It's the Edelsteins. There's been an accident. We have to go to the hospital right away!"

…

…**I know I said I'd work on something else, but I wanted to bump up the chapter count for this, and actually get things rolling.**

**So yeah, no baby for Al and Tsvet, but is that honestly a surprise?**


	4. Compound

_Warning for death and fractures in this chapter. Also warning for more foreshadow-y things that will be explained much later._

…

Eduard was waiting for them at the reception, watching as the pair ran through the automatic doors to join him. He looked paler under the flickering hospital lights, and tired too, lips thin and pulled into a grimace.

"Well?" Tsvetan panted, not bothering with pleasantries, "what happened?"

"Car crash."

"Drunk driver?" Alin covered his mouth with a hand, but the other shook his head.

"Break cables were damaged," Eduard ushered them through the doors to a plain, cream-coloured corridor, stopping to allow the couple to wash their hands with alcohol gel from a dispenser before continuing. "They were driving home from Franz's school orchestra recital or something and Lizzie lost control of the car. She couldn't stop it. Crashed into a tree."

"And are they okay?"

Eduard glared at the floor, bottom lip trembling before he spoke again. When he did, his voice was flat and broken.

"Dead. Rod was gone when they found him. Lizzie went in the ambulance. There was nothing anyone could do."

Tsvetan slowed, swaying as the other two walked ahead.

No. Eduard had to be lying! He felt his stomach sink and fought the urge to throw up again. They were alive. This was a dream! This was a joke! There had to be some explanation for it! Roderich and Elizabeta couldn't be _dead._ Things like this just didn't happen to them anymore. He finally mustered the strength to look up, glaring at Eduard as he rested a hand on Alin's shoulder, trying to retain some form of composure. He _had_ to be lying.

"And Franz?" Alin was almost too scared to ask.

"He's… alive," Eduard paused as he chose his words, "broke his arm in the impact though. The bone's sticking out of his skin so they're treating him for that, which might take a while. Katya's here too, and Ti and Ber are on their way. All we can really do is wait."

Alin glanced back at Tsvetan, looking like he was about to faint. He took his partner's hand to stop him from lagging behind, and followed Eduard.

"It's not true," Tsvetan finally croaked out.

"Afraid it is," Eduard replied curtly, looking straight ahead.

"You're… you're ly-"

"Please Tsvetan I'm trying to deal with the loss of a _cousin_!" Eduard wheeled round, squaring up to his friend, "I don't need your insane bullshit right now!"

"Excuse me?" Alin stepped in front of Tsvetan protectively, "what did you mean by _that,_ exactly?"

"Alin," Eduard warned, rubbing his face, "you know I didn't mean it like that. Look, two of my greatest friends are… are… surely you can understand!"

"I do," Tsvetan's face crumpled and he held out his arms to Eduard, who pulled him into a hug, "I just don't want to…"

"I know," Eduard sobbed onto his friends shoulder.

"Are my boys fighting?"

Alin turned round to find Katya staring at him, walking tentatively towards the trio. Her short, blonde hair was messy and sticking up in odd places, and her face was red and blotchy from crying.

"Of course not," Alin cooed, wrapping his arms around her.

"But I heard shouting…"

"Everyone's just stressed and emotional. Don't worry about it."

"If you say so…"

"Come on," Eduard began walking again, taking Katya's hand and leading them down the corridor, "we have to go to the waiting room until we can get more information on Franz."

"Right," Alin leaned heavily against Tsvetan, stumbling and breaking into a cold sweat, "he'll be okay, won't he?"

"Haven't a clue," Eduard shook his head in disbelief as he opened the waiting room door. It was empty of human life, and carpeted, hard chairs dotted about the room with magazines scattered on tables. "There are lots of things that could go wrong with the surgery, infection for instance."

"Don't, please," Tsvetan threw himself into one of the chairs, flicking through a magazine with shaking hands. He couldn't focus on anything but the bile in the back of his throat and the sinking in his stomach. Katya sat next to him, sipping a cup of cold coffee and wiping at her puffy eyes. Alin leaned against the wall, burying his face in his coat, occasionally letting out a muffled sob whilst Eduard paced the room agitatedly, glancing at the door every now and again.

After what felt like forever, Tino poked his head in through the door, greeting everyone in a hushed whisper as he entered, Berwald following.

"We just got the news," he explained, "came here as fast as he could."

"Where's Franz?" Berwald added.

"Emergency room," Eduard explained, "compound fracture. It'll be hours before we know anything."

"And Lizzie?" Tino looked at his cousin, brows arched in sorrow and a face like a kicked puppy. He silently begged Eduard to tell him everything was fine, but the other just shook his head, looking away as Tino's face crumpled and he began to cry, not caring who saw. He pulled his cousin into a hug and Eduard wrapped his arms around Tino's back, rubbing it soothingly.

"They're gone?" Berwald asked, glancing at Alin, who nodded.

"Both dead, apparently," he mumbled, breathing hard through his nose as he blinked back tears.

"D'dn't think you cared 'bout them that much…"

Alin's eyes shot up and he threw Berwald a poisonous glare. "Yeah? I never got along with Liz, but I never wanted… I wouldn't dream of wanting her, them, dea…" he let out a wail and doubled over, face in his hands, "oh God why is this happening?" He fell to his knees, punching the ground before collapsing onto his side, losing all composure as his bawled on the floor.

"Al!" Tsvetan jumped up, bounding over to him. He rested a hand on his husband's shaking shoulder.

"This shouldn't be happening…" Alin whispered, eyes wide open in horror, not seeing anyone around him.

Nobody could bring themselves to reply, and the room fell into silence, broken only by Alin and Tino's pained cries.

…

Tsvetan couldn't help but steal glances at Tino as the other downed the fifth cup of coffee that he'd gotten himself from the machine in the corner. It was 2 o'clock in the morning now, and they'd still not received any word of Franz's condition. From time to time, a nurse had checked in on them, answering any questions the best they could and making sure they were comfortable.

Tino seemed to be taking it hard. He leaned heavily on Berwald, who'd wrapped his arm around the smaller man to comfort him, and just let tears stream silently down his face. It was weird, seeing the assassin so vulnerable and pitiful. Tsvetan wasn't used to such emotions where Tino was concerned; he was either cool and collected, or happy and bubbly. Sometimes his tone took on a vicious edge, every sentence laced with threats and reminders of what he was capable of, but that was a rare thing to be seen where the man's friends and family were concerned. But this raw grief? It was a completely new sight.

He looked ill. He did at the party too, but it wasn't as obvious in the cheer and merriment the man projected. Now, it was clear that his face was greyer, cheek bones visible and bags under his eyes. He wrapped his black trench coat tighter around him, collar pulled up to cover his neck, like he was feeling a constant chill. He was losing the roundness in his face and chubby limbs and stomach that Tsvetan was familiar with. Maybe something from work was stressing him out. It must be big to have such a drastic effect; maybe Alin wasn't the only one who would have to face his past again. Tsvetan hoped the man's family wouldn't be dragged into it too.

"So where are Peter and Lars then?" he asked.

"Berwald's friend Mathias is watching them," Tino explained, "it didn't seem right to take them to a place like this."

"I see," Tsvetan shook his head slightly, before changing it to a nod. He then turned to Alin, who sat on the other side of him, head lolled as he dozed fitfully, lips pulled into a frown and occasionally mumbling something in Romanian. It sounded like he was pleading, voice soft, ragged and oh so frightened. Tsvetan wanted to wake him up, but didn't want to scare Alin by touching him. Besides, Alin needed the sleep.

"Tsvet, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Tsvetan turned to see Tino looking at him curiously and he shook his head.

"Of course!"

"In private…?"

Tsvetan shook his head again and Tino sighed.

"You really need to work on that nodding and shaking thing…"

"It's on my to-do list," Tsvetan rolled his eyes, standing up and following Tino out of the room. When the pair were standing in the hallway, Tino glanced around before speaking.

"I just needed to tell someone, and I thought you'd be best," he paused, biting his lip, "erm, unless you still need to keep your distance. Then I'll just leave you in peace."

"Oh no! It's fine," Tsvetan sighed, giving a wiry smile, "we got rejected today. No need to worry about the adoption process anymore."

"Oh… there doesn't seem to be any good news today, does there?"

"No. Hopefully things will get better, though it doesn't seem possible at the moment."

"No, it doesn't," Tino looked down, lips trembling slightly.

"What's wrong?"

"I may have… Well, it seems I've gotten involved in something big without realising," Tino still wouldn't look directly at the other man, "and… I have to leave." He looked around before continuing, "gotta get the whole family out. I fear Rod and Eli were targeted because of me, and I have to protect everyone. Maybe if I cut myself off from you they won't target you two, or Eddy. I don't want them to hurt little Eddy too! And Katya, she's too sweet to get mixed up in this. And lord knows _you _could do with some peace, Tsvet. They can't be allowed to come anywhere near you."

"Who will?"

"Long story," Tino played with his hands nervously, "I just needed to tell someone."

"Will you and your family be okay?"

"Of course!" Tino looked up fiercely, puffing out his chest, "I'll do whatever it takes to keep Berwald and my boys alive!"

"Don't doubt it for a second," Tsvetan flashed a grin before hearing footsteps down the corridor, and the pair ducked back into the waiting room. Eduard was singing softly to Katya whilst Berwald tried to coax Alin out of his nightmare.

"Is he okay?" Tsvetan asked in a hushed whisper. Alin slowly blinked, gripping the blond man's arm as he tried to steady his breathing.

Berwald nodded, and Tsvetan stole glances at him whilst he rubbed Alin's shoulder, whispering reassurances at him. He wondered if Berwald knew. Tino would tell him everything, right? They had a closeness between them that surpassed most couples, and they were partners in crime too. It was hard to tell what Berwald was thinking though, so Tsvetan decided to focus on his own husband.

Alin smiled up at him wearily, but before they could say anything, the surgeon opened the door.

"Excuse me," they began, "Mr Edelstein is in a stable condition. He's in intensive care and being closely monitored. The wound has been cleaned and stabilized with an external fixator. He'll remain in hospital for some time, but he'll live."

"That's fantastic!" Eduard broke into a wide grin and even Katya allowed herself to smile.

"So can we see him?" she asked.

The surgeon shook their head; "I'm afraid not. He's too weak, and hasn't regained consciousness and is still under anaesthesia. It's probably best to just go home."

"I'm not leaving my nephew!" Eduard protested.

"Sir, there's nothing you can do for him now. Just go home, get some rest, and come back tomorrow. He'll probably be in a better condition for visitors by then."

"Understood," Tino nodded, walking past the surgeon and leaving, closely followed by Berwald. Everyone else soon filed out of the room too.

"So what will happen to Franz now?" Alin asked.

"He'll probably stay in hospital for a few weeks," Katya tapped her chin as she thought, "then chances are that he'll go into care."

"It's more likely one of us will be given custody of him," Eduard butted in, "either because of Rod or Liz's wills, or a court will decide."

"Poor kid though," Berwald commented, "l'sing his parents just like that."

"The pain he must've been in too," Tino added, covering his mouth, "it must've been some crash for the bone stuck clean out of his arm!"

"Yes, yes, we know," Alin wrapped his arms around his stomach, "please just, stop talking."

…

**Ooh, aren't I bad?**

**So yeah, hope it wasn't a disappointing resolution. Sorry guys! Really not happy with how this chapter turned out.**

**Basically, since I've had the plot for this fermenting in my brain since near the start of OOTSBM, it's more developed, plot-wise. Thus there will be lots of foreshadowing and hints and horrible twists, so have fun!**

**Now, to run away before angry reviewers arrive…**


	5. Long night, hazy morning

_Oh gosh I'm so sorry for the delay! I don't know what happened! _

_I'll try to work on this more, as I'm pretty proud of this fic's particular plot, and can't wait to see all your reactions when you read the horrible things that will happen later on._

_Err, I mean… no, it's pretty much horrible things…_

_Once again, Mathias is Denmark._

…

"Shh," Tino soothed as he lifted Peter into the car, the eight year old fastening his seatbelt and looking at his father curiously. "It's okay." Peter just nodded sleepily, resting his head against the window the moment Tino closed the car door.

He glanced over at Lars, climbing into the other side and nodded, turning around at see Berwald saying a final goodbye to Mathias. Their friend waved cheerily- but tiredly- at him as Berwald made his way down the garden path, breaking into a jog before reaching Tino and getting in the driver's seat. Tino waved back as Mathias walked back into his house, shutting the door on them, and the assassin smiled a sad smile as he trotted around to the passenger seat. He didn't know when, or if, he'd be seeing Mathias or any of their friends again.

It was only a few hours since they'd been dismissed from the hospital, and now grey light was starting to peek over the rooftops as birds began twittering in the trees. Apart from the family, there was no other human life to be seen. The air was crisp and the grass cold with dew, streetlamps still flickering above them. There was not one light coming from the windows, and no cars travelled along the small, residential lane.

Those few, precious hours had been spent packing their most prized possessions, and food, into the boot of the car, stuffed into all the suitcases they could find. Suitcases which had caught the attention of their older son.

"Why's all our stuff in the back?" asked Lars as he plopped back down in his seat, after he'd finished peering curiously into the boot, grabbing for his seatbelt and staring at his parents in confusion.

"We have to go somewhere, children," Tino told them, nodding at Berwald to drive.

"Where?"

"I don't know just yet," Tino admitted, playing with his hands.

A yawning Peter frowned at that; "so we're not going home?"

"We can't. I'm sorry, but it's not safe there anymore."

"Why?" Lars fearfully glanced out of the window, but all he saw were neat houses barely visible in the early morning.

"Daddy messed up," Tino's whispered words barely reached their ears, "and now we have to find somewhere else to live."

"Where?"

Tino let out a wail, burying his face in his hands. "I don't know!" he sobbed, "I haven't got that far yet!" Peter and Lars exchanged terrified glances; it wasn't often they saw either of their parents crying, a dreaded, almost unheard of occurrence that only happened when things had little to no hope. Things must be worse than they dared think.

Berwald slowed down his driving, pulling over and coming to a halt in the deserted street. He glanced over at his husband, not saying a word but instead reaching over, taking one of Tino's hands in his. He ran his thumb over the rough skin, and gave a small, reassuring smile.

"Y're doin fine," he said.

"I'm not! I'm not!" Tino's face crumpled and he let out a little whine, looking up with watery, terrified eyes. "I've ruined everything," he whispered.

"Y'haven't," Berwald squeezed his hand, "you made one mistake. But we'll fix it."

Tino didn't look convinced, staring at their hands, still interlocked. His bottom lip quivered.

Berwald remained undeterred; "all'f us. It's what we do…"

"Thanks," Tino smiled, "yeah, we'll fix it! We'll get through!" He looked around at his family and nodded; "we'll live!"

…

Tsvetan only got a few, fitful hours' sleep before resigning himself to the land of the awake. He lay in bed, blankets tangled around his ankles, staring at the ceiling, mind numb and vaguely registering that he'd have to phone in sick soon; that the room was still a complete mess; and that Alin was missing. He just stared upwards, trying not to think about how he'd never be seeing two of his closest friends again. He refused to believe it. It hadn't happened. He was just drained and imagining things. It was a bad dream, that's all.

Roderich and Elizabeta weren't dead! Things like this didn't happen to people like them! They were young and healthy! They stayed on the right side of the law and didn't make enemies, besides Alin.

It was too sudden. They said Roderich had gone almost instantly, that he'd not been wearing his seatbelt and smashed into the dashboard. The force of the crash had thrown Elizabeta through the window, and she'd hit the same tree as her car, sustaining severe injuries to the head and torso. That was all Tsvetan could remember the nurse telling him, in fragments, throughout the night.

He could easily imagine that level of pain, but the speed of it was almost incomprehensible. It had taken mere minutes for Roderich to die, and all that pain, all the agony involved in his death would've been concentrated into that time. He hated to imagine Elizabeta, sprawled out on the bonnet, suffering slowly as her injuries took their time killing her. Had she known where she was? Had she tried to call out to her husband and child? Had she slipped out of consciousness and not felt a thing? Could life even show that kind of mercy?

The time everyone else had been expected to take it in was quicker still. One minute, Tsvetan's own problems had dominated his mind, and he'd focused solely on his and Alin's pain, something he expected to take weeks doing, slowly digesting it and working out how to move on. Now something had pushed the failed adoption- almost completely- from his thoughts.

But it had only been hours ago that they were alive! And it had taken minutes for everyone to find out. Roderich and Elizabeta had been at the back of his mind, until Eduard phoned. Then there had been worry, fear, but neither he nor Alin had dared believe…

Not until they reached the hospital, and Eduard confirmed their worst fears in a matter of seconds.

A few words at the hospital, and their world had come crashing down, a world Tsvetan was still trying to hold together in his mind. But the pieces were crumbling, even as he lay there, slowly accepting that his two friends were dead, though he didn't want to. Not at all. There was no way their group of four couples had been reduced to just three, possibly two, depending on what happened with Tino and Berwald. Tsvetan hadn't even begun to address the question of Tino.

After a few minutes shifting between denial and acceptance, Tsvetan growled, turning onto his side and finally discovering that he was the only one in the room. Alin's side of the bed was empty, barely slept in, by the looks of things. Tsvetan sat up, eyes scanning every upturned piece of furniture and broken ornament with disinterest before he crawled out of bed and walked over to the door.

Alin was slumped on the sofa, half-empty bottle of wine in his hand as he stared blankly at the wall. He seemed small, and confused, mostly empty though. His mouth was parted slightly, arms limply resting by his sides and hair dishevelled. The heating had long gone off, and he shivered in his t-shirt and boxers, but had made no attempt to cover himself with a blanket. He didn't even notice when his husband entered the room.

"Al?" Tsvetan asked in a hushed whisper, sitting beside him. Alin glanced over at him.

"Hm?"

There was a pause as Tsvetan tried to come up with something, anything, to say.

"Are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?" Alin hissed.

"No," admitted Tsvetan, "but I didn't know… why aren't you asleep?"

"They're dead. They're… they're… gone," his eyes struggled to stay focused on his husband, and were full of bewilderment, fear, and something that looked like guilt.

"I know," Tsvetan sighed, rubbing Alin's shoulder.

"I don't…"

"I know."

"It's…"

"I know."

"Stop saying that!" Alin growled, "you…"

"Don't know what it's like to lose people?" Tsvetan finished, "oh please. We're going through exactly the same thing."

"No!" Alin kicked out, yelling his frustration and smashing the wine bottle on the floor. "We're… I…"

"This… I know it feels like the end of the world right now," Tsvetan tried again, focusing on smothering his frustration at having yet more rubbish to clean up later, "that's what it feels like to me. There's too much bad news to take in at once, right?"

Alin grunted.

"You wonder where the misery will end," Tsvetan continued, "and don't even know how to deal with what you've already been dealt."

"How the hell did you become a counsellor?"

"Shut up! What I'm trying to say is, you just need time to take these things in. Mourn at your own pace, in ways that help you cope, and I'll support you with them, as long as they're not self destructive. Take some time for yourself, stick close to our friends, and don't refuse their help!" He rolled his eyes, "in the end, it's really up to you, but that doesn't mean people can't give you a helping hand!"

Alin mimicked his words childishly, but begrudgingly nodded.

"Brainy bastard," he muttered.

"I try," Tsvetan gave a grin, then stood up, pulling Alin with him, "now, it's bedtime for you, and I mean it!"

Alin nodded, still dazed and tipsy, allowing Tsvetan to push him across the room. He stopped suddenly, and the other barged into him.

"Hey what's wrong?" Tsvetan asked, holding his forehead, which had smacked into the back of Alin's head.

"I…" Alin turned around, trembling and swaying slightly, "I have to say…"

"What?" Tsvetan squinted, "what's wrong?"

"I… I want to know your plan," he grinned.

"What plan?"

"You said… you said you had a plan in case we were rejected and you'd tell me tomorrow."

"So I did…"

Alin stood back, throwing his arms wide. "We were rejected and it's tomorrow! I think…" He frowned.

"It is," Tsvetan gave a half-hearted shrug. "To be honest, all I have to say is that, for the past year or so, I've been saving money, tiny bits here and there. Shaving bits off my wages and saving them, as it were."

"And?"

"I think I might have enough for us to consider fertility treatments," he shrugged again, "seemed like a good idea at the time, and I don't think regulations are as strict as with adoption. I'd have to look into it more…"

"Tsvet you're a genius!" Alin pulled his husband close, kissing him on the lips before letting out a laugh. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Well we can't all be geniuses," Tsvetan winked, "but I wasn't really going to consider bringing it up again for a good while, since, you know…"

"Of course. Besides, we still need to look into it in depth," Alin blinked slowly, "Tsvet, I need to sleep."

"I know."

…


End file.
